Resonance
by wrappedinaribbon
Summary: The real reason behind Blaine's performance of Cough Syrup was most definitely not just a rehearsal for Regionals. It's much deeper than that. Warning: Contains Self Harm, Non-Con and a near suicide attempt. Don't read if you can't handle!


**A/N Trigger Warnings: Self harm, Non-con, suicidal thoughts. **

****Set during "On My Way". I suppose this could be cannon, it fits alright in the storyline, but if I continue it further it might stray from the current storyline. Predicting it'll be around 3-5 chapters, but I guess we'll see!

****Other than that it should all be good! Would just like to first say an immense thank you to the fabulous and amazing Marianne (paperstylehearts) for her wonderful help beta-ing this story, she did a brilliant job and helped out SO much! Seriously, if she didn't help with this it'd probably be about a billion times worse :/

~.~

"_One more spoon of cough syrup now, oh whoa oh..."_

As the music finishes and Blaine spills the last of the terribly emotional lyrics it is then that he dissolves into a fit of tears, falls on his knees and wraps his arms around his torso. Sobs rack his entire body as he wails, and Kurt is by his side in an instant. He rushes to Blaine's curled up frame and pulls one arm around his back, not wanting to startle him. The song was just _too_ much and Blaine had given his all performing it. Kurt's heart was in his chest.

"Shhh, Blaine… it's okay, it's okay. I've got you." He murmurs into Blaine's ear, kissing his gelled hair and cradling the boy's head in his arms.

Blaine just keeps crying. He's not even aware of anything at that moment, just _pain and hurt and why, __why? WHY? _His sobs die down slowly, as he tries to speak.

"Oh God, Kurt. I- I nearly did it this time. I was _s-so_ fucking close, I just—I couldn't—I didn't. And then I—Oh god, I—I" He starts sobbing again, taking in ragged breaths.

"Shh, it's alright Blaine, you're okay. Come on… let's get you out of here. We don't want Rachel busting in, characteristically demanding why it takes so long to practice _one_ song."

Blaine lets out a shaky, surprisingly quiet laugh, before nodding and trying to pull himself off the stage floor. Kurt helps him up and they stumble together out of the auditorium and into the car park. While they're walking, Kurt's mind is going a mile a minute_. What caused it this time? __I am__ almost certain it ha__s__ something to do with his Dad, or maybe it was his old bullies...__? __Oh my God, what if…?_

Different scenarios, each more horrible than the last, fill Kurt's mind. But he doesn't want to think like this. He has to be strong for Blaine.

Kurt all but _drags_ Blaine to his SUV. Tear-stained, unresponsive Blaine, who's so unresponsive and has this incredibly blank look on his face, so _inhumanly devastating,_ that it's starting to _really_ scare Kurt… not that he _wasn't_ scared shitless before. He decides on sitting them both in the backseat; it was pretty unlikely they'd be driving any where any time soon. He gently encourages Blaine to put his head onto his lap, rubbing gentle circles along his spine as he does so. Kurt murmurs gentle repeated whispers of 'It's going to be okay,' and 'I'm here for you,' as Blaine keeps crying all his emotions into him.

A short while later—Kurt isn't really sure how long—Blaine seems to switch moods entirely. He stops crying and lifts himself off of Kurt's lap as he stares around. That same blank look returns to his face. Lifting one arm to wipe his eyes, Blaine seems to take in his surroundings as if only looking at them for the first time.

"H-how... w-when did I get here?" His voice is a cracked whisper and it occurs to Kurt then just how out of it Blaine was.

"…just after the song," Kurt replies, his voice equally as soft; it's taking all of his Hummel-esque vigor to stay strong for Blaine. "We walked over here, but you… you weren't very responsive… Blaine—" Kurt pauses, unsure if he should say anything, but decides he _needs _to know.

"Yeah?" Blaine asks his voice still just that little bit too raspy.

"W-what happened last night?"

Blaine jerks his head up towards Kurt, staring into his stormy blue eyes. It's that non-judgmental aqua gaze that lets him know he's _safe_, that lets him know he can tell Kurt Hummel anything… It is in part, exactly why he loves him so much. He takes in a deep breath, and tries to begins.

"I-I'm sorry, Kurt. I know you made me… made me_ promise_ to call you if I ever felt like I was going to, you know, or… or worse but I—couldn't—I wasn't—I just," Blaine buries his head into Kurt's shoulder, clinging desperately to him. He needs that _comfort_, that _safety_, that Kurt Hummel _familiarity_ or he might just fade away right then and there and he just can't let himself do that. He can't allow losing himself again. He _promised_ Kurt.

Slowly, he peels his arms out from Kurt's waist, and pulls up the sleeves of his red vest. Small incisions, line up his arms, fresh and terrifying are revealed on his perfectly pale and broken skin before his now completely crushed boyfriend.

Kurt, who's mouth is open in a devastating 'o;' his face so full of anguish and worry that he cannot express how he feels right now. There are no words for the pain he feels for Blaine, not even a song would give his current emotions any justice.

As though he honestly thinks Kurt would judge him, Blaine immediately starts apologizing, fresh tears streaming his face. "I'm so sorry Kurt I-"

"Blaine," Kurt cuts him off, "It's okay. I'm _not_ mad at you. I'm just… worried. Please just… tell me. Tell me what happened. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I promise**.**"

Blaine self-consciously tugs down his sleeves again, nods, and begins.

"It was last night... My Dad had some guests over..."

…_The Previous Night…_

"Dad? I'm home!" Blaine hollers as he enters the front door. It's a Tuesday night, so his Mom is probably out with her friends from the tennis club, leaving Blaine and Andrew home alone for most of the night.

"Oh, good! I'll be having some important guests over later this evening." Blaine gives him a looks that says _why_ and his father is forced to elaborate. "Important business things, you know how it is. Anyway… I was thinking you could join in. You need to start thinking about a wise career path, so I figured you should come see how _real _businessmen deal with things."

Blaine lets out a sigh. Andrew is far too cheerful today, something that doesn't exactly happen very often. He answers with a broken "Sure, sounds great," even if he's sure the sarcasm would not be going unnoticed before he is already heading up to his room.

About an hour later, Andrew tells him to get changed. "You should wear something more... _appropriate_ for the evening, Blaine. We are trying to impress these people, you know!"

Blaine translates this as '_dress straight_', and, not wanting to annoy his dad, he tries to do exactly that. He pulls on his white v-neck tee and some skinny, but not crazily skinny, dark blue jeans.

Shortly after, Andrew calls Blaine down as the guests arrive. "Blaine? They're here!"

Blaine trudges down the stairs, ready to greet his father's co-worker. He quickly pulls on a smile, and turns the corner towards the door, where a man in a suit is chatting animatedly with Blaine's dad. And behind him, a beautiful young girl in an extremely short red dress emerges. Her lips match her dress, and her eyes are surreal blue.

He finds it strange that the man brought his daughter with him. After all, she seemed to be, at the very least, a sophomore.

"Ah! And this must be the strapping young gentleman Andrew was talking about! My, my! Blaine is it?" The man spoke at a feverously fast pace; it was near impossible to keep up with.

"That's me!" Blaine tries to stay cheerful, because if he's grumpy and sour, he's practically guaranteed no dinner _and_ being grounded for God knows how long. His dad was cruel like that.

"Well, Blaine, I'm Mr. Scott Smythe. I work with your father, as you probably realized." They shake hands. "And this is my daughter, Amelia. I think she's about your age. Junior, right?" Blaine politely nods keeping silent. Scott seems oblivious to Blaine's awkwardness. "Well that's fantastic, I'm sure you two will get along brilliantly!"

Amelia side steps Scott, and Andrew practically pushes him into her. She isn't startled at all, though. Instead she greets Blaine by planting an unwelcome kiss on his cheek. Neither of the adults present seems to notice or care that Blaine is uncomfortable with this unwanted set-up, and Blaine almost wonders if Andrew actually planned this with Scott. Andrew swallows dryly. "Blaine, have you forgotten your manners? Why don't you show young Miss Amelia to your room? You two can chat in there while Scott and I discuss some important business matters."

His father gives him an impatient look. Blaine supposes that he just wants him to suddenly fall head over heels for this girl. Instead of replying with a sarcastic comment though, Blaine just nods, uncomfortably gesturing Amelia towards his room. Amelia smiles, (what she probably supposes is a dazzling smile), and follows him up the stairs.

"So... Amelia…" Blaine starts.

"Please," she interrupts, "Call me Amy." She interrupts.

Blaine shrugs, "Amy it is then. Uh, so what school do you go to?"

"Crawford Country Day. Its Dalton's sister school isn't it? I've _just_ been transferred there." Blaine doesn't like the way her voice is practically purring at him. "It's a pity you're not at Dalton anymore… Is this your room?" she asks eagerly. They've arrived at his bedroom. Amelia quickly invites herself in as she pushes open the door. Blaine sighs, and follows suit sitting down next to her on his bed.

"So…" Blaine attempts to start a conversation again, "Crawford Country Day, right?"

Amy, Blaine notices, is sitting perhaps a little _too_ comfortably, raking his body with her eyes now. Blaine is unsettled but he doesn't say anything. "Uh huh," she finally shrugs nonchalantly, "It's alright for the most part. If you don't count the fuglies, nerds—or worst of all—the _dykes_."

_Dykes_? That last insult hits Blaine the hardest and he forgets about being polite for his father if only to set things straight with Amelia. "Okay, first off, there's _nothing_ wrong with being gay. Also don't use that'd' word around me—that's a _horrible, vulgar _thing to say. And _really_, what the hell is a fugly?"

Amy, who is clearly undisturbed by offending him, rolls her eyes, "Oh, Blaine… It's what you call someone when they're _fucking_ _ugly_. And while we're on the topic, gay people are a fucking disgrace. I would rather die than be associated with them."

Blaine raises an eyebrow. He cannot believe she said that. This girl has pushed past every last one of his limits now. He suppresses a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. "Well then I guess Daddy dearest should book your funeral right now because unbeknownst to you, you're associating with someone who's very much _proudly_ gay."

It takes a few seconds for Amy to put two and two together but when she does the look on her face is wrought with disbelief. "You?" she asks, "_You're_ gay?"

"Yes," Blaine hisses back, turning to a photo on his nightstand, "This is my boyfriend." He shows the picture of Kurt to her but she really couldn't care any less, insulting Blaine even further. "Your boyfriend? Huh. Well, what do you know? Biggest fag if I ever saw one."

Blaine stares wide-eyed at her, "Don't you dare! Don't you dare insult him! You can call me all the names in the world that your small-minded brain can actually comprehend but don't you dare breathe one negative word about him!"

Amy laughs at Blaine, actually _laughs, _and then she is giving him this sultry look, tracing one of her polished fingernails along his thigh as she moves closer to him. "Oh Blaine. How that _fairy_ has poisoned your mind! Listen to me. You're _not_ gay. He's just… clouded your vision. Let me—let me set everything clear for you." Her hands are uncomfortably roaming Blaine now and he shakes her off, deciding against the voice in his head that is telling him to whack her over the head with Kurt's photo. She grabs the photo anyway from his grasp and tosses it somewhere on the floor, climbing over Blaine and effectively pinning him underneath her.

"Mm, God Blaine, you're so hot," she breathes against him. "I can show you what real love is, you know. And this," she says referring to her own body, "is as good as it gets".

"Amy… s-stop. Stop it. I'm-please, listen to me!" He barely manages to choke out the words in between her feverish kisses that she has begun trailing all along his body.

She gives him a pure look of loathing. "No! _You_ listen. Listen very closely to me, Blaine. Daddy's promised me a very generous trust fund if I can get into your faggy pants… and I plan to do _exactly_ that."

"I'm n-not interested!" Blaine says ineffectively dodging more of her advances. _What kind of fucked up family does this girl come from?_

"Mm, _I_ don't care, and by the sounds of things, soon, you won't either." She smiles up against him, leaving a wet trail on his neck, almost making Blaine gag.

"What do you want?" Blaine asks desperately. His voice is choking up now. He doesn't want to admit it but he's scared.

"To show you a good time. To get what's promised to me after straightening the fag out of you. It's what both Daddy and Andrew want after all… for us to be together…"

Blaine is horrified by this news and he tries so, so hard, to get this girl off of him but she's advancing like cat on mouse now, her hands even brushing against Blaine's totally mortified and clearly non-existent erection. "No, seriously, STOP! I have a _boyfriend_, Amy, okay? I'm _gay_ and that'll never be something you can straighten out of me! I don't like girls!"

This information, however, seems to fly right over her head. "You think that matters? Just an hour with me and you'll forget all about your pasty boyfriend. Come on, babe, let's see what you've got."

Without warning, she is, much too aggressively forcing her tongue down his throat.

Suddenly, everything is spun out of control as she holds him there; she's sucking his neck and gliding her hands down his chest and it's all just _wrong__,__ wrong__,__ wrong. _ Blaine keeps trying to move his head away, lift a leg, an arm, anything, but she has him pinned too dexterously. He can't do anything, except continue to let her touch and grope him. He even tries biting Amy's tongue to defend himself. She pulls back for a moment, and Blaine thinks it's finally over… but then she breathes quickly into his ear, "…you like to bite, huh? I like it kinky too," before moving her mouth back over his lips. Her hot breath pours over him, suffocating and terrifying as he stares up at her, pleading silently for everything that he's worth that she just stops.

His mind starts going foggy, probably from lack of oxygen, and he's losing strength. Amy has started grinding against him and quite suddenly he's losing hope too. _I'm going to be trapped here forever_. _Oh __G__od, what if she tries to rape me? She __technically _is _already__ raping me. I need to get out. I have to get out. What is wrong with me, why can't I move?_

His mind is torn out of focus when he hears the unzipping of his jeans. The next 10 ten minutes are a blur to Blaine. It's like he's watching everything through a foggy window, although his body feels like it is trapped underwater. He just lies there, helpless against Amy. He doesn't know how long it goes for. It quite possibly may have only been a few minutes but it felt like hours. He doesn't realize that she's got his pants to his knees and that his unresponsive cock means nothing to her. He doesn't even realize when she's finished with him or when she walks out of the room. He stays still on the bed he was just raped on, his pants still where she left them. He feels a combination of things… dirty, broken, used to name a few, but mostly just nauseous.

He finally bursts out of the underwater trap to the sounds of himself retching into the toilet.

Blaine is just in focus enough to hear Amy politely telling their fathers that Blaine won't be joining them for dinner as he is absolutely exhausted.

He throws up again.

Much later, Blaine finds himself in the shower, just running out of hot water, which is funny, because he doesn't remember when he turned the tap on or even when he first got in. He doesn't even know how longs he's been in there or notice how red the water is, nor the burning on his arms, chest and legs.

When he stares in the mirror to brush his teeth, he doesn't notice the red marks up and down his arms, or how pale his face is from blood loss.

When he opens the bathroom mirror to put away the toothpaste, Blaine's eye catches on a small pill container:

_Ambien – _ _Take Ambien exactly as prescribed by your doctor. Do not take in larger or smaller amounts or for longer than recommended. Follow the directions on your prescription label. _

Blaine doesn't think. His head is spinning and the room keeps tilting and when he pours the entire bottle into his hand, about to toss the tablets into his mouth, he thinks of one very, very important word**:**

…_Kurt__…_

And then… he doesn't do it. That one resonating word is so powerful, that Blaine tips the small white pills back into their bottle. He stares at the thin scarlet criss-crossed slits up his arms and for the life of him can't remember how they got there. But he does know one thing. Tomorrow, he'll be singing _Cough Syrup_ for Kurt. And he'll be fighting to gain back control of his damned emotions if it's the last thing he does.

_For Kurt.  
_

* * *

Ta-dah! Well I hope you liked that! I'm keeping it incomplete cause I have a few ideas for some reactions, but yeah!

So please let me know if you liked it, loved it or loathed it. If you think I screwed something up, or could have written something better, please let me know! I'm happy to hear constructive criticism!

So keep shaking folks!


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